Roses in December

Today I gathered around a table with women I dearly love. During the year we meet each week to study, to ponder and to help each other live out the teachings of Jesus. They are my "go to gals when life gets tough" as my North Carolinian friend puts it.

We are moms, singles, aunts, grandmas, and great grandmas. We come from different faith traditions. We love a good discussion. We like to use our minds as well as our hearts. We love to laugh. We love to welcome a newcomer.

Twice a year we gather to celebrate with feasting and gift giving.

The gifts we bring are simple but come from our hearts. Today, one brought a poem. Another a dramatic reading of a lost sheep and his shepherd. One shared a picture of her father who passed away this year. Another brought chocolate croissants.

And another gifted each of us with a fragrant rose and an herb bouquet from her winter garden.

Gifts of love. Gifts of friendship. Gifts to enjoy today.

The roses were fragrant and vibrant. I imagine it was a sacrifice to cut them from her garden at this time of year and share them with all of us. Yes, I live in a climate that has roses in the winter. But this will be the last of their blooms until spring. The roses must have looked stunning in her garden. But instead of keeping them for herself, she cut them and brought them to share.

My rose is in a vase on my dresser. I can smell its sweet scent as I write. It is with a deep appreciation that I enjoy its beauty because it came at a time when a garden rose is a rare gift.

I wonder how often I am given gifts but don't fully appreciate them because they seem common place or ordinary. And yet when given out of season or in a season of pain or grief, they become a lifeline. They become God's gifts of grace at just the right time.

My dad died on December 4, 2004. When we came home from the hospital after his passing, four long stemmed red roses sat in a vase on the kitchen table. My dad had given them to my mom just a few days before his tragic accident. There were four of us who entered the empty house. My mom, brother, husband and I. It was as if he was saying one last time to each of us, "I love you."

On the first anniversary of his death, I bought four roses to put in my home as a way to honor my dad. I now do that each year on December 4. I love that the red roses are part of my holiday tradition. They remind me to focus on what really matters during the holidays. I need that reminder as I can quickly feel overwhelmed by all I think I need to do. I need this reminder all year long!

I was given more than a rose today. I was given a gift of grace. 

For my dear friends who are in a season of waiting or grieving and who are struggling during the holidays, I pray that they too will receive the gift of a winter rose.  The gift of a hug, a phone call, a meal, a note, a prayer. Something that will remind them that they are loved.

Linking up with Tuesdays Unwrapped